Home comes to visit

So the moment I got home from Mallorca last Sunday, I raced to my apartment to put some clothes in the wash, threw some more in a bag, then ran out the door to go find my MAMA! Too impatient to walk, I took a cab to her hotel, asked the man at the front desk what room she was in (IN SPANISH) then took the elevator to room 502 of the BEAUTIFUL Hotel Majestic. From the moment the elevator doors opened, I could smell her familiar smell of Chanel perfume, and here her high-pitched voice on the phone, talking to God knows who. I stood outside her door for a moment, just soaking in the sheer joy and excitement of this moment, then knocked loudly several times. Immediately she set down the phone, ran to the door, and enveloped me in the familiar Mommy hug. What an unforgettable moment that was...and that moment was also the start to a VERY unforgettable week full of highs and lows, however, overall the most BEAUTIFUL memories I have yet to make with my dear Mom.


After digesting the excitement of having my Mom in Barcelona, I let go of her, and entered the room only to find another WONDERFUL surprise: a bunch of my favorite American candy scattered across the room...doesn't get any better than that. I ate some starburst, some sweet tarts, and of course, opened a blow pop, then told her it was time to gather her things and go see my apartment. The whole mile there, we walked, talked, giggled, and enjoyed the excitement of being together again. Upon entering my apartment, my mother was completely shocked. Though my bedroom was better than she had expected, and she loved my balcony, my washing machine in the kitchen, and shower situation was much worse that she had expected... nevertheless, she photographed the entire thing.

We put my clothes on the clothes line, Mama was shocked that I didn't have a dryer and had been air drying my clothes, went and got dinner, then snuggled up in our cozy hotel bed for the night.

I skipped class Monday to spend the day with my mom, therefore we decided the that first and foremost we needed to walk down Las Ramblas and end up at the beach. Although Las Ramblas is so my mom's cup of tea, I was trying to steer clear of the "pick pocketers" and tourist commotion, so we power walked down the street :). Immediately when we made it to the water, we spied a boat, and decided that we needed to take a touristy boat ride. It was absolutely amazing. I have yet to see the beach, the city, the skyline, the entire Barcelona from the outside, and it was so much more wonderful than I imagined. And sharing this view with my Mama, who was 10x more enthusiastic about it than I was, was perfect.

After the boat ride, we took the metro in search of a hair salon, got lost, and ended up at a make up and perfume store instead... we did so well that we were exhausted and in need of a nap. Once we got back to the hotel, however, I was miraculously rejuvenated and went to take advantage of the very nice workout facilities while mama slept. The rest of the night consisted of going to get my clothes from the line outside due to a fear of rain, and eating tapas at a sweet restaurant near the hotel. Then going back to the hotel to struggle while trying to find English TV and getting so frustrated that we just called it a night.

Tuesday, I had a full day of classes, thus Sarah was left to be independent until 6:15. I was a bit worried, but she made it alright, and I met her for dinner, then we went back to the hotel and she made a necklace (she would bring her beads) while I did homework.

Wednesday, also, began with my having to attend classes, then us meeting up to go get hair cuts, YAY! We went to a hair salon that I had found several days before, and got hair cuts and treatments by the two sweetest, most flamboyant guys ever. They not only managed to give us wonderful haircuts and treatments, but also upped our self-confidence ten-fold with all of their kind words and compliments. It wasn't until we were paying that the owner - who did my hair - showed me his look book, complete with pictures of him doing Miss America's hair, Miss Inter-continental's hair, and much much more... the only way I found him was by searching English speaking hair stylists in Barca.... lucky me :) And that was the highlight of our day... which was followed by room service and an early nights sleep.

Thursday, as everyone warned me would eventually happen, we experienced our disaster.... Mom's wallet was stolen while at the antique jewelry flea market (where else would we be!)... It was sososo sad... and I was frustrated to tears, however, my strong Mother handled it so beautifully... the rest of our afternoon, however, was dedicated to canceling all her credit cards, and trying to figure out how to get more money. When it was all worked out, we returned to the flea market with what little cash we had left in the safe in our room, and bought ourselves some jewels as rewards for the tough day!

Friday morning we woke up pretty early, exercised, got lunch, shopped a little, then headed off to the tour bus that was headed to Mt. Sarrat. The ride up the mountain, in the gigantic tour bus was pretty terrifying... my eyes were closed the majority of the time, however, once we arrived to the top, it was totally worth it. The mountains were so much more beautiful than I had anticipated, the Basilica at the top was absolutely breath-taking, and the views of the city were unlike any that I had yet to see in Barcelona. The best part of all though, was my mom's reaction. She was absolutely in love. Every few steps, we had to stop and take another picture. Every time I was amazed by something, it absolutely took her breath away. Her enthusiasm made the experience so much more monumental. But then it was time to go back down, and without fail, one of us had to get carsick... thank goodness it was her and not me (sorry Mama :) ) We ended the day at my FAVORITE Spanish version of Bread and Company... and though it doesn't even begin to compare to my wonderful custom made salad full of feta and nuts, the home made salad and vegetables taste SO good in a city where the norm is bread, potatoes, and meat.

Saturday, our last day together, we of course had to do the activity that Mama was most excited about: the tour bus, where you ride around the city up top in the open air seating. We got off at the Sagrada Familia (beautiful), the mall (shopping for ourselves and the fam in the States was a necessity), and her favorite Park Guell. This park, created by Barcelona's well-known Gaudi, gave mom the perfect scenery in which she could take pictures of all of her favorite things together: flowers, parrots, beautiful views, pink buildings, and Spanish tiles. Though I was getting a bit antsy, I found my inner patience in order to watch her in her prime.

Early Sunday morning she left me, it was heart-breaking. Watching her get in the cab, headed back home to all the people we both love the most, after a week of wonderful quality time, all I wanted to do was to jump on the plane with her. Tears running down my cheeks, I mustered up the strength to get in my own cab, however, and head back to my wonderful little apartment, and continue this great adventure. Of all the obstacles I have faced while here, watching her head back home, knowing I wouldn't be doing the same for seven more weeks was without a doubt the hardest, yet I know that it is all worth it. I have now gotten back into my routine, made my way back into the little Barcelona family I have made here, and once again become excited about the beautiful seven weeks I have left. I cannot believe how quickly time flies.

I am off to London this weekend, for yet another outstanding adventure, and I cannot wait to tell you all about it. I miss my people, my home, AND MY ANIMALS, more than you will ever know... and I cannot wait to come home and share with you all the ways in which I have grown throughout these 17 weeks.

See you all VERY soon. And love you all VERYVERY much!

The beach at last...

Last week was a long, hard, stressful week. From the uncharacteristic, and never-ending rain that may have ruined my toms, to spending countless hours looking at art-history slides, Spanish vocabulary, Catalan History dates, etc... in preparation for Mid-terms, come Friday I was exhausted. Not only was I exhausted, but I was also extremely anxious to get out of my apartment after having been cooped up studying, and dying to relax in the sun after having been running in the rain for a week. Mallorca was the answer to this pitiful week.

Thank goodness I had the idea a few weeks back to plan a trip to the beach after Mid-terms; at the time I had no idea just how grateful I would be. Come the end of my last exam Friday afternoon, however, I was jumping out of my skin... all I wanted was the beach. Because our taxi was arriving at 4:00 am, in order to make the 5:50 flight, three of the four us made the "wise" decision not to go to sleep beforehand. Sadly enough, despite our attempts at playing "truth or dare" minus the "dare," listening to music, watching TV shows, and eating tons of candy, being the pathetic college students that we are, we only made it to 2:30. At 2:30 I snuggled up in the twin bed with Maggie, while Nicki was in the other bed, and thoroughly enjoyed an hour and a half nap, that seemed to only make me more exhausted. Nevertheless, we woke up, made it to the airport, and survived another TERRIFYING flight (terrifying to the point that the passengers applauded when we safely made it to the ground), making it to Mallorca at 7:30 in the morning.

I had no idea what to expect from Mallorca, however, upon arriving I was absolutely thrilled. Being a small island off the coast of Spain, I immediately found all I needed: salty air, an ocean, palm trees, sand, and a pretty iffy hostel to sleep in. Lucky for us, it was about 9 am when we reached the hostel, therefore we had the time to take a nap before beginning our day. Though we probably could have slept all day, we set out to find food, the ocean and the sunshine.

After a quick lunch at a small café, we found the water. Although we had yet to find the beach, we just couldn't resist laying on the boat dock, and soaking in the sun. It was about time for a nice sun burn :)

After "laying out," napping a bit more, and singing along to our ipods, we decided it was time to continue our exploration, and took a taxi to what we believed was going to be an entertaining area of Mallorca. Once we arrived, however, we discovered that 90% of the shops had gone out of business, and that we should call our taxi driver and ask her to come back - thank God she was sweet enough to give us her card. While waiting, we got Ben & Jerry's out of pure excitement that they had it in Spain, wandered a bit, watched some kids play on the carousel, and headed back to where we were to meet the driver. Sadly enough, after the small adventure, we were desperate for another nap, and headed back to the hostel for "snuggle time." 

After prying ourselves out of bed for the second time that day, we enjoyed a nice Italian dinner (only thing we could find), then called it an early night.

Saturday morning, we woke up early and set off to find some coffee and croissants. After filling our bellies, we headed up the mountain to experience the BEAUTIFUL castle, and the breath taking views that it provided. We spent a while just walking around in complete awe, unable to comprehend how such beauty existed, and why it wasn't appreciated more often. Seeing the beach, next to the mountains, with a warm sun shining above them both is officially my favorite. There is nothing with which you can compare such beauty.


Finally, we pried ourselves off of the mountain, in order to make it to the boat ride we so badly wanted to take. It started pretty sourly, when my favorite pink, Juicy sunglasses were stolen from right in front of my closed eyes. As I was waiting for the boat I decided to sunbathe, only to discover that for the few minutes that my eyes were closed, a sneaky thief stole my glasses, which put a damper to the beginning of the ride, however, it soon got better. Not only was I able to have two conversations with strangers in clear Spanish, but then I also got to enjoy Sangria, sunshine, laughter, and the ocean with my favorite girls. And though the "captain" asked if we wanted another free ride because we were entertaining, we turned him down, and went to eat lunch on the water.

The rest of the day consisted of a short shopping spree to find more sunglasses for my burning eyes, another nap/snuggle time, then a second dinner with our favorite waiter at the same Italian restaurant as the night before. Once stuffed, we went next door to receive the free drinks we were promised at a small bar, only to find the free drink was a bribing tactic to bring in more customers... we had the ENTIRE bar/dance floor/ etc... to ourselves for the night :) Though pathetic, it was actually pretty fun and got us tired enough to enjoy another wonderful nights rest in the hostel (after of course, getting to talk to Tavarres on Skype, YAY!!)

Sunday, it was time to go home... or I guess not home, but rather my current home away from home. Once again, I was pleasantly surprised by my excitement to return to Barcelona, despite the fun I had on my travels. This one definitely was the most relaxing, and "rejuvenating," full of sleep and sun-bathing, rather than exploring and sight-seeing, nevertheless it was the beach, and it was wonderful.

I am truly amazed that there are only 7 weeks left until I am back at home with you guys. I say that each week, but I think it just keeps flying by a little faster each day. I miss and love ALL OF YOU dearly, and grow more appreciative of you with each communication struggle I have, rude person I encounter, feeling of fear and confusion that I feel... and will be happy to be back in the States when it is time.

All my love.

City of Love

It feels like forever ago, however, last weekend I was lucky enough to get to spend three nights discovering Paris. I am not quite sure what exactly I was expecting Paris to be, nevertheless, it was not what I expected. Don't get me wrong, it was incredible, it was beautiful, it was marvelous, it just wasn't the Paris I had imagined.

We arrived to Paris late Thursday night only to discover that it MUCH colder than we had expected it to be. As we were sitting on the side of the road, overcome with excitement, we were also huddled together, trying to preserve any warmth we could find; we were terribly under-dressed. After at last finding probably the only taxi driver in the city who would illegally drive 5 people, we took a short ride to the Aloha Hostel. As we got out of the taxi, we stood breathless in the street, the Eiffel Tower was directly behind our hostel.









We entered to find that the Hostel wasn't too bad, except for the public shower situation, which was awful. After finding our room and choosing who got each BUNK BED!?! we went out in search of food. Being used to the Spanish ways, we expected all restaurants to be open at 11:00, however, our only option ended up being a Japanese restaurant. It was actually AMAZING. After a long day of travel, we decided to go back to the hostel and call it an early night. After being in bed for about twenty minutes, we were startled by someone BANGING on our hostel door. Terrified, we all pretended to be asleep, our only comfort being that we had remembered to lock the pad lock... the banging stopped, we sighed out of relief, and then our door opened and someone entered our room. He walked in, put down his stuff, asked us to please not lock the pad lock again and left the room. He was our sixth room mate. I have never been so thrilled to find that a strange male is my roommate, however, I was happy that's who he was, rather than some psycho who was breaking into our room. I actually slept well Thursday night.

Friday morning we woke up early, excited about beginning our first day in Paris. We walked down the street from our hostel and found a precious little cafe, where we would eat breakfast every morning. The woman who owned the cafe was a wonderful french woman, who spoke little English, however, was patient and kind with us nonetheless. Our breakfasts were wonderful, consisting of fresh squeezed orange juice, coffee, omelets and croissants.... :) what a wonderful way to start the day. After a long, relaxing breakfast, we set off in search of the Champs Elysees. This area, running right alongside the water, was wonderful. Though it was overcrowded and a bit touristy, it had the beautifully dressed Parisian women who were ALL LEGS, the Louis Vuitton store that was about six stories tall, the cutest little cafes ever, and just so much life. We spent hours just walking, watching, appreciating, trying to soak it all in, and then finally came to the end, where we found the Arc de Triomf. It was unreal.

From here, we set off for the Eiffel Tower. Once we got to the area, we ate a LONG lunch at a wonderful French cafe, then went to get in line for the Eiffel Tower. After sitting in line for about an hour and a half, we were told that the top of the Eiffel Tower was closed, therefore we decided to leave, and come back the next day. So we went back to the hostel, took a nice two hour nap, then got ready for dinner. Due to a lack of planning, we set off with no place in mind. It was cold, it was late, and we were hungry, so we went to this small place on the corner. Little did we know we were asking for our first taste of the rude, snobby Parisian. The menu was impossible to read, with few choices available, and our waitress was absolutely awful. Though I have no idea what she said to the tables around us, it was clear that she was mocking us, and that we were once again being referred to as stupid Americans. Despite her awful attitude, we enjoyed our dinner, then found a small local bar, where we stayed until closing time.

Saturday morning, after ignoring our alarms several times, we woke up a little later than expected. After quickly getting ready, we got breakfast at our small local cafe, went and got picnic supplies, then set off for our second try at getting to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Once again, the  top was closed, therefore we could only go halfway up. Though a bit disappointed, after walking up about a thousand steps, we realized that even this view was amazing. It was a bit foggy, and extremely cold, yet Paris was still completely breathtaking. The entire time I was up there my legs were quivering a bit as a result of a slight fear of heights, and my heart was racing. I just could not fathom the idea the hundreds of years ago, without an of the technology we have today, people built this tower as a gift. A gift that would be celebrated as one of the most famous tourist attractions for all the years to come. It was absolutely unbelievable to me. 


After admiring the view for about an hour, we took the steps back down to the bottom (I could finally take deep breaths again), and we set out to find the perfect spot for a picnic. The picnic was wonderful, consisting of several baguettes, brie, fruit, and mixed nuts. It was sunny, the temperature had finally risen enough to allow us to take off our winter coats, and all around us people seemed to be feel of joy, and loving life; we were as well. We went from laughing at nothing at all until we were completely breathless, to sharing the stories of who we are, where we come from, and why. It was as though we were characters in a movie. It was surreal.

After basking in the sun for a little, trying to digest all of the food we had just eaten, we set off for the Notre Dame. Running to try to catch the metro, getting a bit lost, and having to change trains several times truly made us thankful for the transportation system in Barcelona, which is SO much better than one in Paris. At last, we got to the Notre Dame, and once again, I fell in love with a Gothic Cathedral. It was absolutely amazing. I was determined to go here because my grandmother had told me how beautiful it was, however, I wasn't expecting it this. My favorite parts were the stained glass windows; oh what I wouldn't give just to have one of those in my home...
From there we went to the Louvre. Because it would take days, which we didn't have, to make it through the museum, we just admired it from the outside, then continued onto the Boutique Shopping. Here, I was a bit disheartened by the fact that everything I saw, I wanted, however, everything I saw also was WAY outside of my price range. It was still fun to look. It was here that I finally saw why Paris is just about the number one shopping city there is. The stuff was so unique, so beautiful, so intricately designed and made, I just wanted to take it all home with me. Because I couldn't, however, we left, and ended up stumbling upon what would be my favorite part of Paris... the lock bridge.

The railings along the bridge are all covered with locks of all different shapes, sizes, colors, ages, etc.. and each one is engraved with its own special message. The purpose of the lock bridge is to engrave a lock with the initial of you and your loved on, to lock to to the bridge together, then to come back one day in the future and remove, or simply find your lock. My heart grew warm from all of the love there was on that bridge. There were couples walking all along it, and thousands of locks reminding Paris of all the ones who had already come and gone. I can only imagine all the stories belonging to this one spot. All the love, loss, promises, and heartbreaks that have taken place there throughout time. I wanted to know them all, to hear them all, to write about or read about them all; I never wanted to leave.

After going back to the hostel, showering in the most awful, as well as coldest showers I have ever been in, and getting dressed, we took a LONG taxi drive to the "hip, fun" part of Paris, where we heard the best night life was located. Ironically, we found the one Spanish restaurant in Paris, where we ate the BEST dinner and had the BEST wine. The woman who owned the place was so sweet, and we stayed there for hours, enjoying a full four course meal with yummy bread, appetizers, a main course, and a DELICIOUS dessert. From there, we went down the street to a VERY fun bar, where we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.. that is until I was confronted by a guy who was wondering if I wanted to participate in a porn video. After giving him an awful glare, and telling him "absolutely not," we realized it was 2:00, therefore time to go find a taxi home.

Unfortunately, because the taxis refused to drive five of us, three of the girls got in a taxi home. I opted to stay with a friend and wait for the next one, not realizing that there wouldn't be another free taxi for at least an hour. As we were nervously waiting, we witnessed a drunken street fight, were confronted by some extremely drunk Parisian guys, who refused to leave us alone, and offered a couple rides from guys driving by. I rarely get nervous in these situations, however, seeing as I know little to no French at all, and was in a completely foreign country, I was a bit shaky. After waiting on the side of the road, shivering, praying we would get home safe, and trying to avoid the sloppy drunks, we finally got home around 3:30... Better late than never.

Sunday, after our last breakfast at our sweet cafe, we walked a bit, then set off to the airport. It was very nice to experience excitement over returning to my Barcelona home. Though a part of me was hoping that this plane would take me back to my home, my family, my puppies, a part of me was also very excited to be back in the now familiar and safe Barcelona. I'm really starting to love it here.

Miss and love home and all of you more than you know. Enjoying my last nine wonderful European weeks, and then CANT WAIT to see you when I get home.

XOXO 

Maravilla

Oh Sevilla, where do I even begin? My art teacher told me before I left that there was a famous saying in Spain, "quién no ha visto Sevilla, no ha visto maravilla." In other words, those who haven't seen Seville, haven't seen beauty/splendor/wonder.... This trip truly lived up to such expectations.




 Woke up early early early ( I can't imagine how I woke up at 5:30 every morning in high school) on Friday morning to meet at the bus stop with the rest of the students from my program to go on our one trip all together. Despite our delayed flight, we arrived in Sevilla 1:00 in the afternoon and were given the rest of the day free. Our hotel was alright, but there was nothing I wanted more than to get a taste of Sevilla, because what I had seen thus far was absolutely unreal, therefore we set out to find food. Never have I ever ordered wine with lunch, but since all the others at our restaurant had it, we decided to join in. It was fabulous.

After eating, we set out to explore. I was in complete awe of this city. Sevilla is said to be a bit snooty and stuck up, however, I thought it was absolutely perfect. It reminded me a little bit of Rome, but a Spanish version; nothing at all like Barcelona. Rather than being a bit city, it was more like a small town. The streets were cobblestone, the buildings were bright and colorful, and best of all... the people were warm, friendly, and helpful. When I fumbled with my Spanish, they were patient and forgiving, when I walked into a store, they greeted me and in the restaurants, they were kind. Not to be negative about Barcelona, but I guess that's just the difference between a Spanish town, and a city that's stuck in an identity crisis between Catalans and Spanish.

After a couple of hours of shopping and exploring, we went to our rooms to regroup, then met in the hotel lobby at 7:30 to go to a flamenco show. Because I am passionate about dance, I was extremely excited about this show, nevertheless I had no idea what to expect. The show was set in a small covered porch, in the middle of the city. It was wonderful. The show began with an incredible guitarist, one with talent unlike anything I had ever seen before. As he continued to play, two more men entered the room, one singing and one clapping. The three of them acoustically made the music for the dancers.

After a few minutes of music made by these three men, the flamenco dancers came on stage. The woman was dressed in a long dress, heels, and the passion with which she was dancing made me long to dance again. Though this was extremely different from the dancing I previously did, the dancers were putting their heart, soul, sweat, and actual tears on the stage in order to convey a dramatic story. I was in heaven.

After the show we went and got dinner, a couple drinks, and called it an early-ish night in order to enjoy our free Saturday.

Woke up around 9, ate breakfast, then decided to get our Saturday started. Because the whole day was free, there was absolutely no stress, no worry, no commitments until a dinner at 8:30; it felt SO GOOD. So I set off with some girls to find the shopping areas. Fortunately for me, my kind of shops (little antique jewelry and knick knack stores) were everywhere... the upscale shopping was a bit more difficult to find. In search of the shopping, we encountered a large square playing music where we danced and sang, got some MORE spanish coffee, and scarily got stuck in a protest march. Though it wasn't violent, it was pretty overwhelming and intimidating, therefore we escaped the area as quick as possible.

Come about 2, we were starving, therefore we got some picnic supplies and set out to a beautiful park. I never realized how fun picnics were, but it was truly paradise. We sat in the sun (sun burns in February are WONDERFUL), ate lunch, and tried to soak in the fact that this was an experience we had only dreamed about; unfortunately there were two different instances of getting pooped on by birds, as well. Once lunch was eaten, a post lunch rest was completed, and we had regained our energy, we made our way through the rest of the park, found a perfect bench, and took the opportunity to dance once again. This time, rather than having music, however, we had an audience.

Saturday night was the perfect end, to the very best day. After an amazing dinner at a nice restaurant across the street, we hung out in the hotel for a while, then went across the bridge to a couple of local bars. For the third time that day we danced, we sang, and we made some local friends with whom we could practice our Spanish.

Once those around us started to be too friendly, and get on our nerves, we made the joint decision to walk home. Sevilla is very different at night than it is during the day. We made it to the hotel safely around 4 (way past my bedtime) and slept for a very short time.

Sunday, our last day, we ate breakfast, had a little free time, then went to see the Cathedral in Sevilla; the largest Gothic Cathedral in the world that is still open. Don't get me wrong, it was beautiful, but the best part was the view from the top. We were sent by the tour guide up a twenty minute long flight of steps, to the point of the Cathedral to witness the view of Sevilla from above. This is my new favorite place in the world... besides home.

And then we had to say goodbye to Sevilla.
The trip was wonderful, every place we go gets even better. I am off to Paris this weekend, and hopefully I will have half as much fun as I did this weekend.

Cheesy Honesty

Walking down the street several days ago, I saw an elderly homeless man. Upon first glance, I realized that he had absolutely nothing except for the clothes that he was wearing, the cane that he was leaning on, and the paper coffee cup - similar to the one from which I had had a wonderful, warm cup of coffee in only seconds before - with no more than a handful of coins that some polite people had given him. My immediate reaction was to feel sorry for this man, but after watching him for a few moments, the feelings of guilt turned to curiosity. As I watched this man, I couldn't help but question how he lives such a life. Where on earth does this man find hope, when he isn't even guaranteed a place to sleep. Where in the world does this elderly, homeless man find strength, when he isn't even guaranteed a meal that day. The only answer I could come up with was faith.

Faith to me is a funny thing. I have always admired people who have a strong sense of faith, because for me, faith has always been pretty difficult. When I take a step back, and look at life, and this world as a whole, nothing seems to make sense. The past few days I have been homesick. I have been thinking and longing for this wonderful home. This beautiful place that provides me with a sense of warmth, safety and nourishment. And best of all, this familiar place that is constantly offering me a sense of love, acceptance, and family unlike any other.



After shedding a few tears over  my longing for home, however, I walk out of my apartment to go to the gym, only to stumble upon this. These two men who have somehow managed to set up camp in the lobby next to my apartment building. These two men who don't have a home and sleep on hard tile floor, hoping to escape the streets just for one night. Once again I stumbled upon the question: how? How do these men wake up in the morning, pack up their things, and continue to push through this thing that they call life? And yet again, the only word I could think of was faith.

Don't get me wrong, I love my home, my family, my warm and comfortable bed, but I grow envious when I begin to realize that these men have something that I do not. These men have a faith unlike anything that I have ever dreamed of. I want what they have.

Being the control freak that I am, each day here I am reminded that life is a mystery. We are fools to even begin to think that we have even the slightest bit of control. But I guess that's the point of it all. We make plans, and things go wrong; we have hopes and dreams, and things get in the way.  But its what we do that counts. It is the ability to take a step back when I forget my boarding pass, and thus miss my first flight to Barcelona, and just accept fate. It is getting lost on the Barcelona metro, where there isn't a single friendly face, or a helping hand to be found, and having a little faith. It is taking the wrong turn, and consequently learning the way. It being pushed aside as outsiders by much of the Catalan community, and often growing a little lonely, and trusting that in the end it is going to be worth it. It is taking this enormous opportunity, letting faith take care of the fear, and instead focusing on the promise. It all comes together in the end.

I knew I was taking a leap of faith by leaving Nashville for four months, and calling a completely foreign place my home. What I didn't know, however, was that the leap was going to be so huge, and that I was going to make it to the other not only ok, but happy, grateful, stronger, more confident, and with a much stronger sense of faith.


"As your faith is strengthened you will find that there is no longer the need to have a sense of control, that things will flow as they will, and that you will flow with them, to your great delight and benefit."

Pretty Amazing

I am not going to lie, I am feeling a bit uninspired today. Sitting in my apartment after my first day of skipping classes, I am trying not to swallow due to an awfully sore throat, and i am trying to keep my eyes open despite my lack of sleep last night. These are the days that make it hard being away from home, however, these are also the days that make me a stronger, more independent young woman. Additionally, it is days like today that I must take a step back from my feelings of homesickness, and look instead at the bigger picture of how wonderful the other days have been. So the past few wonderful days at a glance, which help me get through the long ones like today:

Friday morning we were given the opportunity to go on a free day trip, provided by the program that I am a part of. About fifteen of us met at 9am and took an hour bus ride to Southern Catalunya; to a little town called Tarragona. Upon arriving in this litte town of about 130,000 people, we were immediately led to that which their town was built around, the Roman ruins.

It was so amazing to me not only that ancient Rome reached all the way to Spain, but also that the hard work and dedication that Rome put into their architecture has lasted all this time. Each and every ruin that we saw told a story, and though I am the furthest thing from a lover of history, I was left hungry for more. From these very walls, which were built around the city to protect from invaders, to the amphitheater beautifully seated by the water, I was in awe of it all.

Though it was all beautiful, from the city streets,
to the cafés that I can only imagine myself sitting and drinking coffee and doing my homework each morning, I cannot imagine being these people. I cannot imagine being someone who knows nothing more than these small crowded streets, secured by ancient Roman walls, where there is rarely an unfamiliar face, and each day consists of the same routine. I went back and forth, from pitying them for not knowing anything else, to admiring them for the simplicity and peaceful way that they lived their lives.


After wandering for about three hours, we reloaded the bus, and took another hour ride into the countryside of Southern Spain. Though the drive was beautiful, the lack of air conditioning and the winding roads led to a bus full of complaining American college students. Once we arrived at the traditional Southern Catalan restaurant, however, there was little talking heard seeing as we were devouring this wonderful, yet completely foreign food in front of us.

Traditionally, Catalans eat their biggest meal of the day at about 2:00 in the afternoon; a three course lunch. Though in Barcelona, the typical meal is one that I am not fond of... I fell in love with this one. The meal began with what are known as Calcots, large green onions that are grilled and dipped in the wonderful orange sauce called Salvitxada, which is made of almonds, tomatoes, garlic, peppers, vinegar and oil. Because the charred outer layer of these onions must be peeled, everyone and everything grows extremely messy. Thus, the table is covered with paper cloths, and everyone wears a bib. Huge platters of these "onions" are placed throughout the table, and the servers continue to bring more, until they are asked to stop.

Following this wonderful course, everyone was sent to was their hands and remove their bibs, as the waiters cleared the mess of the Calcots from the table. When we arrive back at the table, an entirely new course consisting of two different kinds of sausage, a scary version of chicken, pork, artichokes and beans were placed throughout the table. Seeing as I was a bit nauseated by all of this meat, I stuck to the artichokes and beans, which were equally delicious, and made up for the nasty meat.  Finally, after filling up on all of this, they brough the third and final course, a wonderful dessert. Though I usually stray away from these, this was absolutely irresistible, and totally worth it :)
 In order to walk off this huge meal we had all just devoured, after lunch we all walked to an old, recently abandoned Monastery. Upon arriving to the Monastery, I had no idea what to expect, except that it would be extremely quiet and peaceful; it was so much more beautiful than I could have imagined. Though ideally, the monks would still be there, allowing me to stand off to the side and just watch them, all I could do was imagine them in this serene environment. Everyone finds their peace in different ways, from reading a good book, to practicing yoga, or from being at my beautiful farm, to simply being with the ones that you love the most, but I just cannot imagine going as far as to live in complete austerity. But to them, this was peace, and to me, that was both unbelievable and beautiful. From sleeping on a cold floor, with nothing but hay beneath them, to living each day in complete silence; I simply cannot imagine.

Following this visit at the Monestary, there was a long drive home, during which we all slept as a result of being overfed with Catalan food, and overwhelmed by Catalan history. Though everyone else went home, took a nap, then went out Friday night, I opted to stay in my warm bed, and get a good nights sleep. After a lazy Saturday, Saturday night I decided that I would go out. I ate dinner at "home" with a few other girls, then we went to a bar called Dow Jones. It was a pretty cool bar, based on the theme of the stock market. The drink prices rose and fell based on their popularity, in the same fashion as the real stock market does. Though I had a very fun night with my friends, there was one foul moment during which I had to get in an argument with an extremely creepy older guy. Though he was extremely attractive, he was attempting to get one of my friends who was extremely drunk, and has a boyfriend back home, to leave with him... and she was considering. He wasn't bothered by the fact that she was "taken," and was extremely willing to take advantage of her drunkenness. After being screamed at, "Who the f*** do you think you are?!" I decided I would go home to avoid a fun night being ruined.

Sunday consisted of nothing but sleep, homework, eating, and yoga videos in my room with the heat on (pretending I was in Page's class back home). Though I have more school work here than usual, and don't really feel like its school at all since I'm in Barcelona, life is good and I cannot wait for this weekend. Friday through Sunday will be a group trip to Sevilla, which I have heard is absolutely beautiful.

I love you all, and miss you all very much. I was told today that we are 1/4 of the way done. Pretty amazing; and very bittersweet. I cannot wait to be home, but I can already tell that its going to be a heartbreaking goodbye, because I do LOVE Barcelona.

Chill Bumps...

And so begins my first wonderful adventure outside of Barcelona... A weekend trip to Rome. I had no idea what to expect; to be honest, the only things I knew about Rome were that I had seen a lot of pictures of the Colosseum and Pantheon in my text books, that the Romans were once upon a time extremely powerful, and the Italy had lots of pizza and ice cream. As soon as I could see the ground from my airplane window, however, I knew that this place was once again going to be a place unlike anything I'd ever seen. Though I saw extremely beautiful things upon arriving in Rome, my first stop was something that I had only seen in my nightmares, our hostel: "Hotel Beautiful."


After a few deep breaths, I finally recovered from the utter shock of where I would be sleeping the next few nights, and decided that I should spend as little time within that place as possible, therefore we went out to explore Rome. Beginning with the Colosseum, I saw all of those incredible sites that I had learned about from texts books throughout school, however, I never imagined I would ever stand right next to. Each time I reached a new one of these unbelievable sites, I would stare in awe, touch them if I could, and do everything that I could to take it all in; it all just felt like a dream.


It wasn't just the beauty of these places that amazed me, but also the stories that lay within every inch of land. Don't get me wrong, there is nowhere I would rather live than my home in Nashville, however, I also cannot imagine walking to school each day, and passing the ancient Roman ruins that are taught worldwide. The hard work, dedication, skill, art that these people created within Rome is beyond anything that you could ever find in the US. I feel so lucky to have gotten to experience this first hand.

So Friday night, after a nice dinner at Dolce Vita (I made the girls go there because I told them it was my favorite brand of shoes at home, so it had to be good! -- sad but true) we went to some local bar... After hanging out there for awhile, we decided that it was too touristy, and that we wanted something more local, so we went to a different one -- recommended by the owner of our hostel. All was well and good for about an hour or so... After a while, however, I decided that I was going to try to make this one boys night and dance with him (he was in a wheel chair). So I took his hand, wheeled him out on the dance floor and we were having a great time. He spun me, and it didn't work too well... so without thinking I tried to spin him... the next thing I know he has flipped over backwards and fallen out of his wheel chair and onto his back. As if this wasn't bad enough, as a result of the complete and utter shock that I was experiencing, I turned, ran, and hid in a corner afraid to ever show my face again. I watched as his friends ran to his side and got him back in his chair, and felt my face turn purple, and my heart break. After running to his side, apologizing a thousand times, and giving him a kiss on the cheek, we decided it would be best for us to leave and just go back to the hostel...


So Saturday, to make up for the awful way my night ended on Friday, we began the day with St. Peter's Basilica... it was the absolute most beautiful thing I have ever seen. There wasn't an inch of the entire place that didn't take my breath away, and though I wanted to take a picture of every single bit, I didn't feel that pictures could even begin to portray the beauty that I was witnessing. From the statues of Jesus and Mary, to golden trimming around the entire Church, every single bit was created with care, with dedication, with thought, and with purpose.


I am not sure that such thoughts were necessary, or even appropriate, but as I was walking through this sacred space I couldn't help but think, "where did we go wrong?" At what point did humanity stop celebrating and appreciating not only the beauty that can be seen here, but also the faith. I can only imagine the blood, sweat and tears that went into perfecting each and every detail of each and every bit, from choosing the right color to paint the trim, to making sure that each and every wrinkle of my favorite statues face was placed perfectly, in order to evoke an exact, and intense emotion. This look of peace on this man's face most definitely created a stirring inside of me that I cannot even begin to put into words.

As the day continued, our adventure continued. We went to a wonderful little cafe for lunch, followed by a tour in which we got to see the Spanish steps, the pantheon, several more Basilicas, the beautiful back streets of Rome, and more... While wandering after the tour, I managed to buy not only a beautiful little water color from an artist on the street, but also a vintage ring that will remind me of my adventures in Rome. :) And on our way back to the hostel, I found my favorite building... I am not sure what it is about it, but I would give anything to be able to take this back home with me...
 To finish our night in Rome... we met up with a large group of other college travelers from all over the world, and we to a couple of local bars and clubs. Not only did we get a taste of how friendly and attractive Italian men can be, but also how creepy and inappropriate they can be... Overall, however, the night out was lots of fun, and friends were made from Rome, the US, England, and my favorite, a very nice boy from South Africa...

How thankful I am to have not only the opportunity to study abroad in Barcelona, but also the freedom to travel throughout Europe on the weekends, and the generous father who makes that possible. Just booked my plane tickets to Paris in a few weeks. YAY

Love and miss you all more than you know...